


Lessons To Be Learned

by jayeinacross



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Jaegercon Bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 12:45:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayeinacross/pseuds/jayeinacross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck knows the stories of every scar that Herc has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lessons To Be Learned

**Author's Note:**

> for the [Jaegercon Bingo](http://jaegercon.tumblr.com/post/57225250646/) square: "Scars".

Chuck knows the stories of every scar that Herc has. Some of them are from his memories, and some of them from Herc's, but all of that kind of blends together whenever they Drift anyway. He learns them gradually, another memory with every Drift, and then he finds them on Herc's body later. Herc will tell him how he got them, filling in the little details that are missed while the memories flicker past, because aside from sex, sometimes this is as close as they get outside of the Drift.

His foot, where he got a piece of glass stuck in it the first week of boot camp and went on with it anyway, came out of it lucky that there wasn't any lasting damage. Chuck lifts his foot up and puts his thumb over the scar, small but jagged.

"That was kind of stupid," Chuck says.

Herc snorts. "Thanks for the invaluable advice."

A longer one, on his side -- an injury from one of Herc's very first fights in a Mark I, a close shave that Herc managed to escape from with nothing worse than a scar. There are smaller ones like it all over his body, because the conn-pod suits aren't perfect, and he's seen the inside of more Jaegers than any other pilot out there. One of them, Chuck doesn't need him to tell the story for. He was there for it, back when the Drift was new for them and they were still getting used to being inside each other's heads. The moment when nobody was sure that this was going to work out, scratched into Herc's right shoulder blade, the scar that Chuck's fingers always find when he's clutching at Herc's back, pressed up against a wall or into a mattress.

The one just above his left elbow, fourteen years old and barely visible, but Chuck knows it's there, because that's the one that Herc got when Chuck barrelled into him and knocked them both into a fence with a few loose strands of wire. Herc's temple; Chuck can't stand looking at that one. He squeezes his eyes closed when they kiss, drops his head to Herc's shoulder when he's gasping for breath, because he hates that it's a reminder of failure, instead of bravery.

"Quiet," Herc growls when they're in their bunk, just back from a drop and still high on adrenaline. Chuck doesn't quiet down at all, of course, and it's probably just because Herc told him to.

"It's not like nobody knows," Chuck says, and runs his tongue along a scar below Herc's collarbone -- courtesy of a Category III Kaiju and a Mark IV Jaeger.

To Chuck, most of the scars are a sign of experiences that he has to live up to, then surpass. Chuck's got a few scars of his own, and Herc knows all of those too -- the one he got when he fell off his bike the first time he tried to ride it without training wheels, the one from a fight with another student in the Jaeger Academy, the one from his very first Drift. But Herc doesn't want to see any more on him, despite how determined Chuck seems to acquire them, like they're badges of honour, medals to be earned.


End file.
